


A Beautiful Mess

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Study, F/F, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Past Relationship(s), Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: Yasha loved her new family with everything she had but she loved Beau differently.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32
Collections: Remix Revival 2020





	A Beautiful Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hold Me Any Way You Want](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15215891) by [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan). 



> This is my first remix, so I apologize if I messed something up. Thank you for reading and check out the original fic if you get the chance :)

Yasha fell for Zuala the first time she saw her, standing alone in a clearing. She had loved her wife with a fierceness she had never loved anyone, and when she left her to die it felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest.

When Yasha met Molly, she found a kindred spirit. He knew what it was like to run from a past he didn’t quite understand, and he never pushed Yasha to uncover her own. When she lost him, her mangled heart had broken in two.

The Mighty Nein were all she had left. They were her family, her future, and the longer she stayed with them the harder it became to leave them. They were all beautiful messes in their own unique ways and Yasha loved them for it.

They helped her in a way she could never begin to explain, each one giving her a new reason to uncover who she was and what exactly her purpose was in this world. When she decided to stay with them, she knew she had finally found a new home. A new home, a new family, a new…

Something.

She loved her new family with everything she had but she loved Beau differently.

Her feelings for Beau, while there, were complicated. Yasha didn’t know what she wanted from Beau and sometimes she feared pursuing those feelings. Running headlong down that path could lead her to happiness, contentment, but it could also lead her to more pain. She knew she wouldn't know until she at least tried but fear kept her from doing what she wanted the most. Fear of her past, fear of her god, fear of what Zuala would think.

Fear of herself.

When Zuala died, Yasha vowed to cut herself off from love. She had betrayed the one person who held her heart, left her to die in the worst possible way, and she did not deserve another. She waited for some divine power to interject, tell her she didn't deserve to live, but none of them. Even her own god pushed her into finding a new reason to live. She decided, if the gods’ refused to punish her, she would punish herself.

Then she met Beau.

Fierce, protective, complicated Beau.

Everything about Beau fascinated Yasha. Her quick wit, her devil may care smiles, the bits of herself she allowed the others to see whenever she dropped her passive aggressive mask. She was so unlike Zuala, so uniquely Beau, but at the same time she left Yasha with the same butterflies in her stomach that Zuala used to leave; her heart would even speed up the exact same way whenever she saw Beau.

Despite fighting it with everything she had, Beau managed to worm her way into Yasha’s life and carve a spot for herself. There was a world that existed without Beauregard Lionett, but Yasha refused to ever return to that world. She wouldn't give up knowing Beau for anything.

* * *

One of Yasha’s favorite things to do was study Beau, find out what made her tick. She could spend hours mapping out every inch of Beau, noting every single one of her idiosyncrasies, memorizing her every move.

She was the enigma Yasha wanted to solve.

Beau’s hands were a conundrum by themselves. They could be gentle (she had once helped Fjord tend to one of his wounds), but they were also deadly weapons. With each hit, each cracked and bloody knuckle, each stained bandage, she became more alive, more real, more Beau. Yasha could study her hands all day, could probably discover something new about them every time she looked at them, and never grow bored.

Her face was interesting too. Her nose looked like it had been broken a few times, crooked and imperfect. Her sharp blue eyes seemed to never miss anything, studying everything around her with apt attention. Her sly smile always seemed to hint that she knew something the others didn't, some secret she was dying to tell if anyone would just bother to ask. The thin scar near her eyebrow always caught Yasha's attention. She longed to brush it with her fingertips, to kiss it gently.

The most fascinating thing about her though, in Yasha's opinion, was the way Beau moved. Every calculated step reminded Yasha of a cat. Graceful yet deadly, light on her feet, quick and sure footed. Watching her fight, the way her body moved fluidly with every hit, left Yasha wishing she could see more. In another life, Beau could have been a dancer.

Yasha has never had that much grace, always too tall and too big, but Beau.

Beau.

Yasha might not know exactly what she wanted from Beau, but she was beginning to piece it together.

* * *

The fight started out like any other. Creatures, the likes of which Yasha had never seen, crawled their way out of the crevices of some cave. Spindly arms pulled them forward, spider-like legs holding their weight in a way that looked unnatural, and it was quick thinking on Caleb’s part that kept them from immediately attacking; a great wall of fire separating them.

They weren’t expecting the things to spit acid and soon Caleb’s wall came crashing down around them, igniting everything in its path. Heat ate away at them, sweat pouring down their faces, and Yasha was finding it harder and harder to keep her sword in her hand.

She lost track of the others, carving into creature after creature, screaming at the top of her lungs when she unleashed her shroud. She swore she heard a familiar intake of breath, but she couldn’t turn. Not right now. Turning her back on these things would be a mistake.

At some point, Yasha felt a familiar back press into hers and she felt a new wave of energy wash over her. Together, she and Beau took on another wave of these creatures, ripping into them with a renewed vigor. They were doing great, a match made in badass heaven, but then the tides took a turn.

Watching Beau go down made Yasha’s chest ache. She carved through the thing that hit Beau, slicing it so deep that she felt the tip of her sword hit bone. She looked the thing in the eyes, watching it die with a satisfaction she hadn't felt since killing Obann, and then yanked her sword free. She carved into another and another and another until she was surrounded by dead creatures, their inky blood pooling at her feet. Around her, the others were taking care of the rest, and Yasha turned to finally look at Beau. 

She dropped her sword, looking down at a dazed Beau, and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. She wasn’t dead, not like Zuala or Molly. Beau was going to be fine. Yasha bent down, healing her with the meager magic that she possessed, taking hold of one of her fascinating hands and squeezing it gently.

For a long few seconds, Yasha just stared at Beau. Mapping out her face, trying to memorize everything about her right down to the final freckle. Her heart skipped a beat when Beau smiled at her, her lips moving, but whatever she said did not register to Yasha.

She let loose a shaky breath and helped Beau up.

Beau said something else that Yasha didn’t quite catch, her sharp tongue always in sync with her quick wit. Yasha nodded, pretending like she was listening, and then leaned down to kiss Beau, cradling her body in her arms. She heard Beau moan, felt her lean her full weight into her, and one hand came up to cup the side of Yasha’s neck.

Someone cleared their throat, but Yasha paid them very little attention. She tasted blood, felt more sticking to her fingers when she ran her hand through Beau’s hair, but she couldn’t let this impossible woman go; not yet.

Maybe not ever.


End file.
